Beasts: Raised Weapons, Calling All Monsters
by Jokerfest
Summary: A dark romance of larger proportions.Multiple pairings,humor regarding the daughter of Frankenstein,hybrids,Originals, threesomes,colorful language,magic and lots of steampunk science. Rated M. Main Story: Stefan/OC MMF MM MF and Ocs shaken not stirred
1. Chapter 1

**Alright so I'm writing with a new format for myself. It's kind of a way to not procrastinate. These chapters are split into more than several parts, skimming over not too indefinite periods of time. There are multiple pairings, not all heterosexual, not all a couple with ben and sally proportions. There is murder and sex, dancing, alcohol and drug use. Plenty of swearing (in multiple languages) and a healthy appreciation of art, music, dance, poetry and more sex. So enjoy, leave reviews.**

**1. This changes what is in the coffin, negating whatever happens post episode 3.11.**

**2. I do not own any of the Vampire Diaries characters otherwise I'd be rich and it would be on HBO or SHOWTIME. **

**-Jokerfest**

_-Raise Your Weapon by Deadmau5 featuring Greta Svabo Bech_

_Rippin' my heart was so easy,_

_So easy,_

_Launch your assault now,_

_Take it easy,_

_Raise your weapon,_

_Raise your weapon,_

_one word and it's over,_

_Rippin' through like a missile,_

_Rippin' through my heart,_

_Rob me of this love,_

_Raise your weapon,_

_Raise your weapon,_

_And it's over..._

_Ease up your ego,_

_You won't feel a thing,_

_Always number one,_

_The pen with a breathless crooked king,_

_sign away our peace,_

_for your war, _

_one word and it's over, _

_Dropping your bombs now,_

_on all we've built_

_How does it feel now to watch it burn, burn, burn?_

_Raise your weapons,_

_Raise your weapons,_

_And it's over..._

**_-So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein—more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation. Victor Frankenstein, - Mary Shelley_**

**_Beasts: Raised Weapons, Calling All Monsters_**

She is sin in a coffin, he thinks. Bonnie has said the correct incantation, has pronounced ancient vowels and smeared curious dark ink over the surface. It's not blood, he can tell, Damon can. Damon is eying the coffin, waiting but barely. Stefan knew he wouldn't rush the process, Damon understood patience in a way Stefan never did.

The lid pops and he and his brother stand side by side to lift the lid. Bonnie steps to the side, barely in his peripheral but he could hardly care who watches.

Who is she?

She looks to be a gypsy, caramel skin, lustrous dark hair, curling dark waves that ripple over her Bob Marley tshirt. There was grace, defined over a thin yet slightly upturned nose, slightly crooked mouth, with lush lips. There was a dark black tattoo, a rough etch of a star that covered her left eye.

"Who is she?"

Damon answered first, eyes tearing away from the girl. He nodded to Bonnie's question.

"Who knows, she'd better be able to kill Klaus. We don't need another problem on our hands."

"This is it," Stefan said almost to himself.

"So, how do we wake her up,"Damon said beginning to circle the coffin. Patience was over, now that the coffin was opened answers had better start coming. Stefan was more concerned with touching the girl's skin. He wondered if it was warm, though all sense dictated otherwise, he expected heat. His fangs itched in their sheaths.

"There." _Yes, _there. _At her _throat.

There was a necklace just at her throat, open. It was a black heart, made of cool metal, the inside was red and etched in silver. It was latin.

"Prius tactum est dulcissima quies est. Cras nunc ante, tum ceteris amplius."

"What the fuck does that even mean,"Damon scoffed.

"Latin's , rusty,"Stefan chuckled examining the inscription. It distracted from the heady scent and the knowledge that she _was _warm and the soft down of her throat was so close.

"Screw you. I understand the rest, rest, rest crap. And the sweet thing but that's it."

"It says, 'Rest until the sweetest touch is delivered. Rest until this moment, then rest no more.'"

"Cute, so a riddle. What is it with supernaturals and their goddamn riddles. Any suggestions?"

"It's a kiss. To wake her up you have to kiss her."

"No,_you_ have to kiss her, this is your show."

Stefan was horrified and at the same time thrumming with anticipation. He wanted to taste those crooked lips. He released the necklace and looked over at his brother, then back to her. He leaned over, that spice and danger and _rightness_ washing over him. He kissed her.

**Ingolstadt, 1790

She opened her eyes for the first time. Her father stood above her, that proud stern glitter in his eye. She blinked, and for some reason knew to sit, to glance around. She was excited, she was renewed.

Noise.

She looked up and saw another _man_ coming down the _stairs_. That was what he was and what he was doing. How did she know? She wasn't certain, maybe her father had provided the knowledge.

"Father?"

"You are awake, my sweet one."

"Yes."

"Good. And for our guest, Mikael, please introduce yourself."

"My name is Shalyn Frankenstein, the Ebony Star. My objective is to kill all vampires, to destroy the Originals or put them permanently to rest. It won't be long, at least, before we destroy your Original Children, sir."

She turned to her father. "Habe ich auch beantworten, Vater? (Did I answer well, father)

He gave a nod, pleased she stepped down from the table. Her first step was filled with purpose. And something else, she wanted blood on her hands, to kill the wicked Children and especially to know what it meant to destroy Niklaus the Original Hybrid.

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

Her eyes were warm, he hadn't expected that. Dark brown, and expectant. He didn't expect the hand crushing his larynx inward either. She looked at him, then realized that he wasn't an enemy.

Damon, rushed to his brother's side, pulling him back.

"Sorry," she said quickly. Her voice was a mixture of accents, American, English, Spanish, German, all awash and refined as her voice. She sat up, pulled her hand to her chest, flicked her eyes over all of them. She wore a Bob Marley t-shirt and dark skinny jeans.

"You're our secret weapon," Damon huffed. She turned to him and smiled, wiggled her fingers.

"Nice to meet you too. Well, it's not like _humans_ had any manners back in the day, what with their damn pitchforks and-what year is it?"

"2012, what's it to you?"

"Thirty years, actually."

"Damn, that sucks," Damon said a smirk on his lips. Stefan pointed at the shirt.

"So...who are you?"

"Shalyn, daughter of Frankenstein."

"Daughter? Didn't he have some oozing corpse, y'know, the monster?"

She got out of the coffin, dusted herself off. She was tall, taller than him by at least two inches. She was curved in ways that even the large shirt she wore, couldn't hide. He saw his brother appraise her figure, he would have rolled his eyes, had he not been doing the same.

"Frankenstein's daughter, how is that even possible? Did he make you?"

"Bonnie, right?"

"How did you know?"

"I read minds, sort of, better than vamps, anyway. Not really into that scene but when you're stuck in a coffin for thirty-two years and someone enters the room..." She shrugged.

"Are you...some kind of witch," Bonnie suggested. Stefan saw the not so subtle look at the tattoo. He was curious too and said nothing.

"Not a witch, but there is some magic involved in my general design. Father was more for science, it was Mikael that suggested I undergo...magical additions."

"So you knew Mikael? And Klaus," Damon, said.

"Look, how about I get out of these rags,eh? Get some McDonald's and we chat? I'd prefer it, and to be honest, I don't feel like sitting in a crypt."

"Good point," Stefan agreed, gesturing towards the door, "after you."

**London, 1801

"Get up! Again!"

Shalyn rose, familiar blue sparks dancing over her ebony skin. Her father had told her that it would take her some time before her powers would manifest completely, and that Mikael would train her.

Use her more like.

Day and night, for years, intense physical combat, endurance training. She knew nothing of the art, the music and the literature that father had entered into her mind, there was no free time to just be. And always the angry remarks, the mention of his failing sons, his duty to destroy their wretched infection upon the world.

Every day. Every day. Her new body, was well cut and shaped after her first four years. Her father had made her into a weapon and every day, of every year proved this fact. Her mind was bent on her human side, like some error purposefully made. Why had he given her the need to enjoy bird song alongside her horrid second skin? She was a beast underneath, just as her older brother was.

Craving, insane, beautiful and clever, a poet, a writer, a monster.

She had to find a balance, there had to be a way.

He aimed his foot at her face, she caught it with sparking hands. They danced up his legs,charring and burning, her mind ripped through veins and sinew, she saw red blood and reveled in it. A heavy hand, like solid marble punched the side of her head and she felt it knock heavily against her skull. Special living alloys and metal that were her scales, were the only things that kept that fist from crunching her head into a pulp. Instead her head snapped to the side and she bared dripping fangs. A swift upwards kick to the face, jolted all other thoughts from her mind. Who cared if she knew poetry, who cared if she could dance or sing sweet operas? She cursed her father, she cursed Mikael. Black spots danced in her eyes as rage took hold, she felt a blade puncture through her lungs before it punctured through her chest and the stone floor of the dank basement. There was no air to scream.

"Never bare your fangs at me monster," he hissed, "you are a means to an end and nothing more. I asked that you be made, and so it is only I who can unmake you."

He wiggled the blade, her mouth gurgled with blood and she spat weakly. He leaned down now on one knee and whispered close to her ear. "Not even your own father wanted you. My monster, you are too weak."

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

"Seriously, _where_ is she keeping _all that food_," Damon asked for the tenth time. Stefan had long ago rested his head on the tabletop, damn the greasy scent.

Even if he did look up, which he didn't want to ,no one wanted to watch one individual go through seven hundred and eighty five dollars worth of food. No one. How his brother managed to continue looking at her and Bonnie managed to talk to her was beyond him.

It wasn't even that she had bad manners, he smirked quickly beneath his arms. Her manners were in fact pointedly poignant and her manner majestic in a way. It just seemed to be unreal, like watching someone bend their limbs in a seemingly unnatural way.

He heard her swallow, sip from what had to be her twelfth refill of coke.

"If you don't like my eating habits you can go to hell, because it's been thirty years and at least everything's dead and deepfried. Puto gilipollas (fucking idiot)."

"So, are you gonna tell us about yourself, because all you've done _so far_ is eat," Bonnie said irritably. Stefan wasn't too shocked, after watching Shalyn eat, Bonnie couldn't any longer and Shalyn had eaten _that_ after her proper please and thank yous.

"Fine," Shalyn grouched. Stefan looked up when she had stopped eating, wanting to hear this story.

"My brother,Lennart, is Frankenstein's first creation. He was not crude and misshapen as Mary Shelley describes, on the contrary, he was...beautiful. He was absolutely dangerous. He was my father's first living commission."

"Living commission?" Stefan's eyebrow raised.

"Exactly what it sounds like, a living being created for a purpose. Shelley only wrote of father's first creation, my older brother. She did not write about his second, third or even the sixth, who was the last of the humanoids."

"Shit, there are more of you?" Damon crossed his arms and leaned back. Stefan knew that his brother was trying to figure out how Shalyn could help them, if she would.

"There were. I'm not sure how many of my siblings remain and there were numerous _other_ creatures that father had created. If he hadn't been murdered who knows what else he would have gotten up to."

"Murdered?" Bonnie's curious yet concerned look was obvious.

"By Lennart."

"But why-"

"No. I'm the better mindreader and I _know_ that the three of you have enough to deal with regarding family issues. Besides, Shelley wrote a decent enough account on that too."

She snatched a few fries and popped them into her mouth. Her eyes closed. The look of bliss on her face did not escape Stefan. She chewed for a few short moments and when she opened her eyes she stared pointedly at him, perhaps she heard more than just stray thoughts. Thinking about her reminded him of Elena, their broken relationship, his tattered feelings for her.

Hearing her speak of her father's death made him think of himself, the look on his father's face as he'd realized what his son had become.

"Anyway, there was the first son, made to destroy the werewolf, he was commissioned by Mikael. Lennart took to killing werewolves with a fervent desire. However, he was flawed losing himself in his own rage, targeting indiscriminately. This failure made Mikael angry, he demanded another chimera be made."

"You."

She nodded at Stefan, smirked. "Yes and I was made to kill vampires, any vampire."

"How? That's the important part," Damon demanded.

"I can bring dead tissue to life. That's the important bit."

"Again, how?"

"Venom. The venom that my body produces, induces healing in vampires, too much or a delivery to any major arteries usually means mortality on a lasting level."

"And can it be made permanent," Stefan asked. Because wouldn't that be interesting?

"If enough venom enters the blood stream it can be permanent."

"And you've done it before?"

"Sometimes, Mikael preferred them completely human when he tortured them."

"God-"Bonnie exclaimed turning away.

"That's not the worst of what I've done, Bonnie. My father made real monsters, there was no time for curses and rituals."

"And just to get this out of the way," Damon circled his finger around his left eye, " what's the tattoo about?"

"It's not a tattoo," Shalyn said simply, "it's what's underneath."

**Vienna, 1803

It was a large theater, balmy yellow, colored the outside and pillars of marble upheld the statues atop, children frolicking.

There was not much time to observe its outer face, the hustle and bustle of other people forcing Shalyn to enter.

Voices, blending into a cacophany of sound, surrounded her. Her soft shoes, felt pleasant against the thick red carpet, she wriggled her toes appreciatively. She heard the sound of instruments as they were tuned by their musicians. She was not sure what to be more excited for, her impending kill or the music that Ludwig was soon to have featured in his ballet.

Or the ballet itself, she mused.

She presented her ticket and a young usher led her to the upper box. The crowd thinned drammatically as she was led to the upper floor. As she walked it was hard to tear her eyes away from the theater itself. Plush red seats of the audience up front, musicians preparing in the pit, Beethoven, dark hair pushed back, dark suit of fine material.

This was not the first time that she had heard music nor the first time she'd witnessed a dance but never had it been on so grand a scale, her first ballet, her first Beethoven concert.

It was hushed in the upper box, only three people were there. She had expected this, three of the Originals traveled as one, Mikael had said. She was glad that he had sent her alone.

She felt their eyes on her as she lifted her velvet skirts between fingerless emerald silk gloves. Her gloves were of the same color and material as the eyepatch that covered her left eye. It was embroidered with golden lace as was her dress and the small hat that adorned her head. She brushed loose strands of her hair away from her face moving closer to the edge of the balcony.

She gripped the cool wooden banister. It was painted with chipped gold and an amber paint that gleamed. It smelled of young tree, of life and vitality. She reveled in the atmosphere licking her lips.

The youngest, the woman approached first.

"My name is Rebekah Sheridan, a pleasure to meet you." The Original extended a hand gloved in a satin white.

Shalyn turned and stood, offering a warm smile, taking Rebekah's cool hand. At last, she thought, I will have my freedom. Father will be proud, and I will have done this great task.

"Vergnügen, Sie kennenzulernen, mein Name ist Shalyn Hildegard. (A pleasure to meet you, my name is Shalyn Hildegard.)"

Rebekah smiled and took her hand in hers. "Is this your first ballet? My brothers and I are followers of _der Musiker, Beethoven_. We had hoped to see his previous concert in another venue but he _insisted_ that it be done here."

The girl led her by the hand to the two brothers. The elder, the dark haired one, gave her an interesting look, as if taking her measure. It was a quick look, something that one had to pay attention to see.

"Elijah Sheridan, die Freude ist unser (the pleasure, is ours)." He wore a thigh length black pea coat, the collar falling just short of his hair. He wore a deep purple cravat pinned with a small gold button. He was taller than she, by more than a few inches in his knee length leather boots. His gaze was heavy, like cognac in a crystal glass.

She extended her hand and he bowed and pressed his lips against her knuckles. It was chaste, polite, he was the more wary brother, Mikael had said. He had not been wrong. The next brother had been watching her the entire time. He reminded her of Lennart almost immediately. There was that same air of magnestism that drew you, features so gracefully aligned you'd think they were angels. Niklaus was gorgeous, angular cheekbones that gave way to an enticing jaw dusted with tawny blonde stubble. His eyes were like clear river pools,so blue. He reminded her of a lion, hair short curled, against his head, almost subtle sideburns making him even more like a great feline.

"My name is Niklaus but I would like it if you called me Klaus. Bitte(Please)," he added. The note in his voice stroked some other sense that Shalyn was surprised she had.

"Klaus," she repeated. She looked at the three together, smiled. "Well, to answer your question, this is the first time that I have seen an orchestra of this magnitude and the first time observing ballet. It has always been a secret passion of mine."

"Secret," Klaus scoffed. He had a bow shaped upper lip, pink and seductive over a generous bottom lip. His entire mouth was heart-shaped and when he suddenly smiled at her she felt a pang of worry.

"But not anymore," she stated. His hand carefully yet purposefully led her by the small of her back, to the balcony's edge once more. He took her left hand in his as they walked together. She could smell sweet blood and wine on his mouth, mint tinged his breath. There was also something else, something sweeter than everything else.

"I will tell you some secret that is not so small," he whispered in her ear, as the lights dimmed. The curtains parted and low basset-horn gave way to the sweet siren of the viola and the violin. Her heart fluttered and her breath caught. She was enraptured and the arm that supported her now seemed necessary. "Ihr Geheimnis ist nicht so geheim, meine Liebe. Dein Herz ist schon Rennen. (Your secret is not so secret, my dear. Your heart is already racing)."

The dancer moved like a candle-flame, a gentleman in a tight embroidered coat, leotard of white velvet. He flickered across the stage as the pace quickened and her heartbeat hummed in her ears. She leaned out and Klaus so gently slipped binoculars into her left hand. When had he let go? Only his hand at her back guided her now.

A woman glided in, ruby as a setting sun, the jewels in her hair like liquid sapphire and with it the obvious heavy cello, like honey. Another man appeared and a curious dance ensued. She could not help her small giggle. A crescendo, and more rapid violins and suddenly it did not matter whom she was with, simply that she watch and listen.

Her secret was not so secret.

"You said," she whispered, "that you had seen...Lehrer (Maestro)Van Beethoven?" And her eyes couldn't tear from the sweet and destructive display of gods over men, monsters beneath heroes, and that bittersweet notion that none is permanent, that there is still pain and death but there is still hope and joy.

She wept because she knew it was all a lie. She wept because she did not care. He would probably compell the Maestro at her behest. She would pretend that she did not know or maybe...

Yes.

She clapped as it finished, her senses still reeling from the emotion and elated thoughts that moved through the air like an ocean current. She breathed slowly and turned to him, him only a step behind. Elijah and Rebekah watched bemusedly from their seats.

She saw nothing else but Maestro Beethoven and Niklaus' bedeviled smile, sensual and almost protective. He _wanted_ her to know this master of sound and beauty. And if she saw nothing else, she felt nothing else but his arm around her waist, her smaller hand in eternally calloused, tapered hands, sure and gentle. The faint smell of blood made her mouth water, her beast side more than just a little tempted. The bastard probably knew.

She waited a few moments outside of the small office that Beethoven had gone into. Niklaus went in after the smaller man and closed the door. Then he came out, Beethoven walking stiffly behind.

She smiled, allowing just a tinge of her psychic charge to extend. Almost like reading minds, like tasting emotion instead of guessing. She felt his anger, that agonizing pain to create, to care, to love the music he was beginning to lose. He didn't move, just looked at her, smiling once and then frowning grimely. They understood one another.

"Sie sind viel hübscher in Person, Maestro van Beethoven (You are much more handsome in person, Maestro van Beethoven)".

He smiled and took her hand, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "Bitte rufen Sie mich Ludwig. Klaus sagt mir, dass Sie hungrig nach Musik sind. Ist das richtig (Please, call me Ludwig. Klaus tells me that you are hungry for music. Is this correct)?"

"It is," she says in a breathy voice. English had come to the forefront, it was the language she'd been able to properly discuss art. She smiled as he led her into the office.

And still, all else besides, her happiness was nothing to the addicting thought that she could kill all of them and dance in their blood. She thought one curse for Mikael and another for her father.

** Elsewhere in Mystic Falls, Present Day

The witch he had procured thirty years ago had not lied. He smiled, thankful that ripping out her heart and drinking its viscouous juices had not been a mistake.

He knew the instant that she had been awoken. He was mortified, but at the same time relieved. She deserved to be free, the damned pretty gypsy. Her crooked smile and eyes brown marbles, all aglitter and tempting. Damn, he'd missed her.

"Prius tactum est dulcissima quies est. Cras nunc ante, tum ceteris amplius (Rest until the sweetest touch is delivered. Rest until this moment, then rest no more). That was supposed to be me, love. There had been at least that."

Klaus stepped out into the chill night, now fully aware of where his family could be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright so moving steadily along, I suppose. I hope that you enjoy and if so leave a review, tell me why. **

_-The Requiem-Linkin Park(A few verses)_

_God save us everyone_

_Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns_

_For the sins of our hand_

_Sins of our tongue_

_Sins of our father_

_Sins of our young_

**"It was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of him. And sometimes I found myself so vividly aware of him it was as if he had only just left the room and the ring of his voice were still there. And somehow, there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I'd envision his face." **

**― Anne Rice, Interview with the Vampire**

**Beasts: Raised Weapons, Calling All Monsters**

**II: Gathering**

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

They'd decided hours before, that Shalyn was going to stay at Elena's household with Alaric and Damon. Stefan, had gone back to the witch's hideaway after having the driven them back to Elena's house and made the return journey with Bonnie, to her home.

Shalyn, had hands stuffed in a new hoody that Damon had purchased. The inside was soft wool, the outside a dark black polyester material. She wore, capris, of cargo pants material, she really dug the pockets, which she'd filled with candy that Stefan had purchased. She was currently eating Symphony chocolate and fiddling with an iPod on Elena's bed.

She kicked her new kicks, soft leather converses, and attempted to get in time with current music.

"¿Quién coño de mierda es Ke-signo de dólar-sha? ¿Qué clase de nombre es ese? Los estadounidenses ya estaban en una lucha de hace treinta años. Maravillosa (Who the fucking fuck is Ke-dollar-sign-sha? What kind of name is that? Americans were already a struggle thirty years ago. Wonderful.)

"So you're...Frankenstein's daughter?"

"Yup," Shalyn nodded at her, winking. She waggled the iPod at Elena.

"Music is just bloody awful nowadays, isn't it? I do like some of this Lady Gaga though, she's actually quite catchy."

"Well, I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself but shouldn't you be thinking of a way to defeat Klaus? You've been...shopping-eating-you made them stop three times on the drive back to 'stretch your legs'!"

"I deserve it. I do, you know. You're free, you're human," Shalyn said catching her eye. Elena looked everything like Katerina. But the open concern on her face, the way she crossed her arms in barely contained stress made it obvious it wasn't the vampire.

"I know I have to kill Klaus. It was what I was originally made to do. Drive the white ash-oak dagger through his heart or better yet, make him human and let him suffer death a thousand more times. I know."

"Then...what's stopping you?"

"Klaus and I, along with Rebekah and Elijah, have a history. There are things that were left unsaid, thirty years ago and even before then. You'll excuse me if I want to enjoy these small comforts, it's been nice to not think. Aber ich bin ein Monster, und es kann nicht geholfen werden kann (But I am a monster and it cannot be helped, can it)?"

Elena had kind eyes and hopeful thoughts. Shalyn found that she wanted to try her best for this young woman. This was the beginning of Elena's life, there was still peace attainable. Shalyn wanted that.

"I'm also not hunting Klaus because I know two things. One," she said digging into her pocket for a Laffy Taffy," he doesn't want to speak to me first. And two, he already knows where I am."

"Fuck," Damon said simply as he leaned against the doorframe.

**A Louisiana Swamp, 1807

She felt powerful beneath the lazy heat of the American south. She wore a plain white linen dress, no shoes. Her feet led her to a clearing in the fetid swamp, large cherrybark oak trees like gatekeepers. It was only a short walk, her gaze drawn towards a buck that had walked in front of her.

She sensed the tentative nature in the beast, his large opal eyes following her. Did he know what she was? She didn't breath, only let her real skin show. She felt it, a sweet pain that started from her left eye, the star widening its dark hold and solidifying inky scales that rose from her skin. Dark fur broke out over her forearms, over the sharp living metal claws that had once been perfectly lacquered nails. Her eyes were sharper, the scent of nature, its animals, predator and prey like a map plainly before her.

Her twin lions' tails swung just at the back of her thighs, starting side by side, just at the small of her back, their pale blond tufts tickling against the soft of her thigh and then back to her knee.

She did not want to chase the buck and let it jaunt away on powerful legs. What she wanted was to understand.

After that concert in 1803, why hadn't she killed Klaus? He'd been a charmer, kissing her hand for more than a mannerly second in goodbye. The flush of heat between his lips and her glove, made her entire body warm. Her heart beat, she'd never wanted to bite someone before so badly. An unfamiliar ache, burned. Her fangs she realized. She was thinking about biting him, thinking about kissing him until she couldn't breath, her thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

And now, she wasn't sure what to do. If she went back to Mikael he would probably unmake her. She had disappeared for four years, leaving no trace of herself. She had not spoken to father or her other siblings. She wanted what Lennart had had. Once when he had been lucid, he had shared his mind with her.

"There is a sweetness in all of it, my little wanderheart."

"There is not," she'd whispered. She stood outside of Mikael's study. Finally the cruel words had fallen to silence, she could end them forever.

"Let me show you," he'd said to her. He wore a simple cotton shirt and leather pants, tight around his legs. He was much taller than she, 6'6, a giant. His pale blonde hair fell around them like a curtain, the cool of his forehead against hers made her sigh. She felt his mind brush against hers and she let him enter. She never had, had done so with her other siblings, but never him. She had always felt herself too ugly, lacking.

And there in his mind, the sweetest peace she could ever feel, as she felt what it was like to be held close by their father. Soft fingers traced through her hair, his hair, father's fingers were warm. And she knew that father loved them all, loved their each and every feature, even her and Lennart, both broken as they were.

He kissed her cheek as he withdrew the memory. "We're still a little human, wanderheart. That will never go away."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, "he said, his voice like dying summer, "I love you."

Shalyn came back to herself, looked down at her bloodied hands. They gripped heavy flesh that steamed thick in the close air. She could stop, if she wanted. She looked down, gripped the antlers tightly and bent down to tear into its throat with her fangs, sweet blood filling her mouth like nectar.

She could kill Klaus too.

**The Grill, Mystic Falls, Present Day

Stefan took a slow sip of his beer. It was his second of the night and he'd already compelled the bartender to keep them coming. And to leave one for his friend who would be arriving any minute.

When Klaus took a sip and set the bottle down, Stefan couldn't help the inward shiver. Only a short while ago, he'd been completely at the Original's mercy. Now, he had a weapon that could finally end the hybrid's torment once and for all. He was sure that he had lost Elena but there was satisfaction in killing the one who had caused that.

"What took you so long," Stefan smirked. He turned so that his back was against the bar. Klaus huffed, a smile curving his cheshire lips. Stefan ignored the look and took another swig.

"You know why. You moved my family, again."

Stefan was glad to have the witches' power at his side. So Klaus had seen nothing but an empty room. Good. The bastard deserved to be disappointed more often. Stefan shrugged.

"Where is Shalyn? With Elena? She isn't to be trusted you know, she's a bit...funny in the head."

"What do you mean? If you mean her little problem with her insatiable blood lust, already taken care of. We had time to make a little pit stop, hunt some hybrids for a snack."

"You've lightened up, I see." Klaus drank the rest of the beer in two swift pulls. He stood up and looked at the bartender. It was a young college man, curly brown hair and stud over his left eye.

"When you've finished serving this gentleman here his drinks, go home and kill yourself."

Klaus clapped Stefan on the back once. "Be careful who you play with. I'll see you at Elena's."

Stefan wasn't sure when the game had changed but he knew that something had just gone wrong. Klaus left with a quickness and it wasn't long before Stefan heard the thrum of an engine. Stefan reached into his pocket and withdrew his cellphone.

Elena answered on the second ring.

He told her what he wanted her to do.

**Elsewhere, Mystic Falls, Present Day

Klaus had already told Tyler what his task was to be. Hopefully, the young hybrid had already bitten Caroline.

At first, he had been meaning to use her as an inside ally. The only thing keeping Stefan's little operation afloat was knowledge. Once that leverage was gone he would tear the baby vampire limb from limb, saving the unbeating heart for last.

With Shalyn awakened Caroline's role had suddenly become that much more valuable. She would serve to make Shalyn jealous and when the chimera's emotions came in to play she tended to flip to murder-mode quicker than a heartbeat. Then they would all turn on her and he could pick them off one by one. He was growing tired of childrens' antics.

Shalyn Frankenstein. He had thought about her often, even thought of releasing her. Truly many years before she'd been all he'd really needed. Rebekah and Elijah had been with him through the ages but Shalyn had been his completely. She knew everything that he was, his darkest thoughts and his most intimate. That same wonder in art, in beauty and life he had seen in her when they had first met, never left. It was an inherent part of her nature, he'd soon realized.

He missed her. He'd opened her coffin too, some nights out of thousands. He knew that she wasn't really asleep, that her mind was merely trapped. She could sense him, feel his thoughts. Some of those nights, among those thousands, he wanted her. He stroked himself in time with her still beating heart. His jeans just below his hips, teasing the head of his cock with his thumb, pretending it was her, _wishing _it was her. Cumming so hard, so suddenly that he would sink to his knees.

He missed his wife. It would be a sad day indeed, if he truly lost Shalyn Frankenstein.


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, so I admit I _have_ changed a few parts of the episode around. I do that sometimes and it works out better for the characters. So for the sake of plot, Alaric is stationed elsewhere, Beethoven's Fifth was premiered during Spring, not Winter and Elena is slightly less clever and less involved than episode 3:11 might have suggested. Anyway, I love reviews, what do you think, good job so far, too much? Let me know. Also, I suppose I should throw up a disclaimer as well. I do not own Vampire Diaries. **_  
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_Siren Song (a few verses) by Bat for Lashes_

_Are you my family,_

_Can I stay with you a while,_

_Can I stop off in your bed tonight,_

_I could make you smile._

_In the morning I'll make you breakfast,_

_In the evening I'll warm the bed,_

_And I'll always be happy to kiss you,_

_Promise I'll never get sad._

_Till the siren come calling calling,_

_It's driving me evil, evil_

_I was a heart breaker I loved you,_

_The same way I do,_

_But I've got so much wickedness and sin._

_My name is pearl,_

_And I'll love you the best way I know how,_

_My blonde curls slice through your heart,_

_And the siren come calling_

_In the night till the light..._

**So alone, just me and an instrumental. They say my music ain't normal, must be something up with my mental. Quote by Kid Cudi**

**Beasts: Raised Weapons, Calling All Monsters**

**III: Realization**

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

"Klaus is headed our way," Elena said hanging up with Stefan. "He wants me to leave, find someplace safe."

"That's perfect," Damon snarked, "why didn't I think of that. Look-"

"No, Damon. Elena, that vampire cheerleader girl, Caroline, call her up. You've been thinking of her since you've seen me. I look nothing like her and that fact alone is what makes you think of her. So get her, grab Bon-Bon and whoever I else, I don't care and celebrate I don't know- her funeral! Yes, perfect. Do that. Ta-ta, bye!"

Shalyn shooed the girl out of the bedroom, hustled her down the stair. Damon whisked off to grab Elena's keys. She shrugged on her jacket giving Shalyn another suspicious look.

"Why are you trying to get me out of the house?"

"Because you need to get out of the house, that's why. _Warum_ ist das so lange dauert (_Why _is this taking so long!"

"Alright, alright, I will grab my purse and I will get out. And Damon, you'd better tell me everything when I get back."

"And who says I'm gonna do that," he said clucking his tongue at her. He grinned.

"Ugh, Damon," and Shalyn cut off the girl by once more pushing her towards the door. Finally, after another minute, Shalyn and Damon listened to Elena's footsteps to the car.

"Jeez, can that girl stall. Anyway, do you want to do something that will throw Klaus off even more?"

"You had me at 'throw Klaus'. Talk."

"I want you to undagger one of the vampires, I've been hearing his dreams for weeks now and I'm sure he's dying to get out."

"Ah. Understood. You know, you're starting to surprise me Franken-babe. You're proving to be a very sneaky, yet useful team player."

"I do try."

**Vienna, 1808

She does not meet him at the concert but outside as she has put up her parasol once more. It was a soft cream, that matched her gown, golden braids, trimming the edge of the silken material.

She closed her parasol as Klaus and Rebekah approached. Klaus swept into a gallant bow, brushing his lips against her knuckles. Shalyn kept her emotions bottled, offering a platonic smile instead. He huffed, giving her a half-grin, he understood.

"So what did you think of the Fifth, my lady?"

"Wonderful, Maestro let me sit backstage, the music from there...breathtaking. I will admit, though, I had hoped to see you again _at_ the concert."

"I've been traveling abroad, business affairs call me away at any given moment. I like to take walks near the concert hall in hopes of catching some pleasant music."

"Devil, make the time!"

He chuckled," Perhaps, we will make time. What are your plans, Miss Hildegard?"

"Well, I was hoping that you, your brother and your sister would...maybe share tea at my apartment. It is not too far off by carriage."

Her gloved hand, touched his arm. "Bitte, mein Freund (Please, my friend)?"

He looked down at her, rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. "Your address darling and I will meet you. Though, of my brother's current whereabouts, I haven't the faintest notion. You will just have to do with my sister and I for company."

"That will do just fine."

And then a few short hours later, she had them in her sitting room, while her servant, Amelia, served tea. Their chairs were suited for comfort, their easy azure color, soothing against the soft creamy off-white of the room. She had had the chairs custom made, using a portion of the money that father had left for her. From her own savings, for she penned several well-doing, penny-novels, she bought a Clementi, a fine English piano.

After tea and small talk, Shalyn deemed it time to move to her next step. A bookshelf, sat just aways from the piano, novels, short stories, poems, newspaper clippings. Shalyn was an unabashed bookworm, now that Mikael no longer dogged her steps. She plucked a book from the shelf, it was a first edition, the authoress still unnamed. She walked over to the group and handed the book to Klaus.

"Have you read it," she asked. He opened it, blue eyes skitting across the first few lines. He smiled, nodded to her before handing it back.

"Yes, I have. Now that I think about it, I can imagine you enjoying this."

She smiled, "It isn't something that I enjoy, per se. You see, es ist etwas, was ich bin. Das Monster, das ist mein Bruder. Der verrückte Wissenschaftler ist mein Vater (It is something that I am. The monster, that is my brother. The mad scientist is my father.)

"Great, a mad one, let's just compel her and leave, Nik."

"I'm not mad, not that way at least. Besides...if vampires are real, why not me?"

Rebekah flinched at the word, Klaus _moved_, his arms crushing tightly around her. She could breathe but if she didn't adjust her skin he could very well crush her bones. She leaned against him, not resisting.

"I am a monster. Aren't you curious to see what I have hiding beneath this ghastly eyepatch?"

He turned her to face him, looking into her eye, searching for a lie. When he found none he released her and crossed his arms. Rebekah stood and glided to his side, her hand resting on his shoulder. He shrugged it away, baring fang, knocking the book from her hand. She growled back, letting her eyes change, her dripping fangs portrude. He looked at her, breathing heavily, stepping closer so that he was mere centimeters away. His hand, brushed against her cheek as he parted her hair, finding the tie to her patch.

When he saw the mark, the unnatural blue of her eye, his hand cupped her cheek, thumb caressing the last point which ended just at the cusp of her cheek. Shalyn frowned and moved his hand aside.

"This is a learning endeavor, Klaus. My father wanted to know that if he could _make_ eternal life, would it not stand to reason that nature," and at this she eyed him, observing the double fangs that hadn't been there during tea, "can do the same all on its own." His eyes were an intense yellow, pupils wide and undilated. He probably had perfect night vision, she thought to herself. His eyes never left hers, his posture so inclined towards her, in an instinctive way. Bereft of the soft black peacoat, he wore a simple white shirt, as he moved, the knot holding it close at his neck gave way.

Shalyn retracted her fangs, turned away.

"My apologies," she heard him say a beat later, "Your secret took me by quite a surprise. I never thought I could meet someone like you. Your father, does he still live?"

"Yes, he does. Would you like Amelia to prepare the guest quarters or shall we make arrangements to meet at a later date?"

She looked at him again, saw that he had regained control, his eyes that color of crystal waters. He was baiting her and she knew it. His gaze was something he was going to force her to let go. She put her hands on her hips waited, flicking her eyes at Amelia to come into the room. The short redhead dusted her apron once before entering and standing behind Shalyn. Then she turned to face him, crossing her arms and arching a brow.

Finally, "How long can we stay?

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

Alaric sighed heavily. He'd been trying to grade papers for the better part of two hours. He could have gone back to the house, maybe gotten a chance to talk to Elena. He knew that she'd been through more than her fair share of problems and he knew that she'd probably need a friend.

He missed Jenna. She would have known what to say to Elena, said something different so that Jeremy could have stayed. They'd always had interesting pillow talk, he about historical landmarks that he'd traced through old journal excerpts he'd been studying and she, tackling some soccer mom for lasagna noodles or work being a complete and utter nightmare.

He sighed. He had graded not a single paper in over an hour. He'd procrastinated, talked to himself and now he was just sitting there, pen not even in hand.

"This attempt was fucked even from the beginning," he said to himself. He wished he was talking more about the papers and less about his awkward situation. Because the truth was-

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't...it doesn't."

Alaric, grabbed his laptop bag, stuffed the tests into the front pocket and snatched his keys off the desk. He'd talk to Elena, make lasagna for dinner and give himself a pat on the back.

There was no need to be thinking about Damon.

He walked down the empty hallway, heading out through the back entrance near the gym. It was quicker and they made teachers and staff park there anyway. So it wasn't completely ridiculous when he almost staked the two people standing outside.

They were roughly the same height. The first wore a hoody and dark jeans, all black. His face was as pale as the moon underneath the hood,

They were redheads, both built like lithe swimmers and one a few inches shorter than the other. The taller one wore a hoody and dark jeans, all black. It made his pale skin that much more noticeable accentuating the myriad of freckles that could be seen of his face. The other wore white, white vest, white shirt and white snakeskin pants. Only his boots were black, both had their hands in their pockets as if waiting.

"Who are you," Alaric said slowly. The shorter one pulled away his hood, confirming that they were identical twins. Their freckles and height were different but everything else was the same, the same straight nose, full lips, and a shock of bright orange hair. The shorter one had a ponytail of stark white hair that was covered by the hoody. The other had a braid.

"My name is Bannan but everyone calls me Pale," the brother in black said. He smiled, exposing white teeth and one very noticeable fang on the left.

"My name is Leif but everyone calls me Ink."

"Pale and...Ink? That still doesn't explain who exactly you two are."

"We've been looking for you. We aren't really sure but-"

"We want to say that you might have some...latent magic in you," Ink finished for his brother. They had dark glasses on, like black coins that rested on their eyes. He wondered what color their eyes were.

"Latent magic. Look, I don't have time for this. Either you tell me what the hell you want or get out of my way, I've got a family at home waiting." Which he did, he really did.

The one in black, Pale, grinned broadly, running his tongue along his fang. "Fiesty. I expected that. You see you have Hunter's blood. You're not _just_ a vampire hunter, there's far more to you than that. We're going to help you."

Alaric wasn't sure if he liked the look in the young man's eye. He wasn't even sure if the two men were young at all. There didn't seem to be any menace in their stance, he could sense that much at least.

"Not here. Let's talk in my office."

They followed like wraiths at his back, he shivered when Pale looped his arm through his. He felt compelled to leave it there and that did not sit well with him.

**Elsewhere, Mystic Falls

There was a witch who had once been in his employ, Clarice Oakley, who had told him, that family was madness. She had said the only reason she even accepted their shrunken heads around her neck was _because_ they were family. There was always the chance that nature or sheer bad luck would see the trapped spirits of her family freed and she spent the rest of her afterlife in torment. When he asked her why take the risk she'd shrugged. "They're family, what kind of Oakley would I be if I took their opportunity of vengeance from them too?"

There just seemed to be a general misfortune with families in the area. Now that his wife was roaming freely it was only a matter of time before her misbegotten family ventured into the area. It was a strange phenomena and he remembered asking her why. It was like clockwork. They'd moved constantly, France, Greece, Italy, America at some point they'd even lived in the Galapagos Islands. He'd never forgotten that little adventure. He was forever scarred by Pale and his utter madness.

She had said it was simple. There was no getting away from the Twins. She said they followed three things like bloodhounds; one was blood, the other was family and the last which they coveted above all else, was magic. The Twins, she explained, were drawn to magic because one brother was renewed by consuming it, the other was capable of finding it, no matter how well it was hidden.

"But that doesn't explain why they always come looking for _you_, " he'd growled into her ear. She toyed with the bedsheets, her hair barely covering full breasts as she turned to catch his eye. The simple star on her cheek crinkled as she smiled at him.

"I'm their older sister and sometimes they miss me. Sometimes...I miss them. They always seem to know just when I miss them most. They spend time looking for the others first, though. They love reunions. They love causing trouble."

"The last time they caused everyone in a local toystore to go insane! You remember that don't you, pumping those mortals full of magic and forcing them to attack one another. You didn't come back to me for days after that, though you'd told me to enjoy myself."

"Well..."

"But you hadn't wanted me to. You should have said and you should have talked to them about it. It took Birch a week to put the store to rights and fix up the mortals that hadn't killed each other off. I was too busy compelling every last individual that had been in the area."

She kissed his mouth, her pillowy lips warm against him. He inhaled through his nose, taking in that spicy scent, that sharp ozone smell that curtained her, making her seem even more vibrant. She fell back against him and he pulled her onto his chest as her tongue, ventured into his mouth, stroking along the inside of his mouth, drinking him in. Blue heat, warmed against his skin as she ran hot seeking hands along his skin. He missed that, he missed her. Her family would ruin him when they found her. It seemed as if he would have no choice but to summon his hybrids back into Mystic Falls. He was only going to make a quick drive to Caroline's before heading to Elena's house.

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

Damon glanced over all the coffins. One of them would be Elijah and he would undagger the Original with nothing less than a smile on his face.

It was about time Klaus got what was coming to him. He opened the coffin to the left, saw the right Original there and with a swift pull yanked free the dagger. He then took from his pocket his paper and pencil. He had a message to write to the unawares vampire, Franken-babe insisted.

"Dear, Elijah...as if those would ever be the words I'd start with. Maybe I'll leave kisses at the end."

Damon scribbled his note and decided he'd done such a good job, he'd stop home for Scotch and see if the birthday girl and the gang would be interested. He had been ignoring Blondie as of late, she had been dealing with a few issues too.

He was surprised that he cared but everything seemed different after kissing Elena. It had hurt knowing that Katherine had preferred Stefan over himself. It was the way he was, when he loved someone, he _loved_ them. He'd been willing to die for Katherine, abandon his family and his name. He had wanted to be with her forever. And now, there was finally Elena. She wanted what he was and not just because he was the more badass of the brothers. She worried about him, cried for him.

He smiled to himself, his fingers touching his lips.

"Yeah, she kissed _me_." And then he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright everyone I have a fresh new chapter up, and again the plot thickens. We meet some people, tease some people and hurt some people in this chapter so I hope you enjoy. You should also, if you please, review. Inform me of your thoughts, what you think might happen, if you think my OCs are yummy ;) This chapter was written while watching the Guy Ritchie film Revolver. So there's two quotes from him, a mind set for you and an openly sensual scene below. So without further ado, I own only the Frankenstein children, not Frankenstein or the actual monster himself. Just my interpretation and whoever I else I imagine. I also do not own Vampire Diaries or there'd be more nudity.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Jokerfest**

_Erotic City(a few verses) by Prince_

_I...I...I...I..._

_Erotic City,_

_Erotic City,_

_All of my purple life_

_I've been looking for a dame_

_That would wanna be my wife_

_That was my intention, babe_

_If we cannot make babies, maybe we can make some time_

_Thoughts of pretty you and me, Erotic City come alive_

_We can fuck until the dawn, making love 'til cherry's gone_

_Erotic City can't you see, thoughts of pretty you and me_

_Every time I comb my hair_

_Thoughts of you get in my eyes_

_You're a sinner, I don't care_

_I just want your creamy thighs_

_If we cannot make babies, maybe we can make some time_

_Thoughts of pretty you and me, Erotic City come alive_

_We can fuck until the dawn, making love 'til cherry's gone_

_Erotic City can't you see, thoughts of pretty you and me_

_All of my hang-ups are gone_

_How I wish you felt the same_

_We can fuck until the dawn ('Til the dawn) (Until the dawn)_

_How I wish you were my dame (Baby won't you call my name)_

**-The longer you listen, the sweeter the pitch. -Jake Green, Jason Statham, Revolver**

-**One thing I've learned in the last seven years: in every game and con there's always an opponent, and there's always a victim. The trick is to know when you're the latter, so you can become the former. -Jake Green, Jason Statham, Revolver**

**Beasts: Raised Weapons, Calling All Monsters**

**IV: Thoughts**

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

Klaus found himself at a jeweler's shop, sometime between 9:30 and 10:45 at night. He eyed the pieces carefully, deciding which would suit Shalyn best. He knew that she would not accept the finery, not unless it was after she'd drained him of blood and kicked him around a few times. She'd say he deserved it and more and that he couldn't buy her off with jewelry. Maybe he could pin her down long enough so that he could kiss her, or bite her. The balding man in the plain grey suit took out a set of diamond pieces that had caught his eye. He had been looking for over half an hour and if they had taken any longer he might have eaten the grey man out of sheer boredom. He wondered what had been on her mind the moment that he had staked her. She had turned, complete happiness illuminating her every feature. The expression shattered when he said the word that would confine her body to _Rest_. He wouldn't soon forget that look on her face, when she realized what he had done. One hand had gripped his shirt, the other pressed against her heart. She could feel it slowing down, feel her mind preparing for _Rest. _She had looked at him one last time.

"No," she said trying to argue. Fight, always fight. It was in her nature and that was why he loved her. 'No', was the last thing she said before he caught her in his arms.

"Yes, this bracelet here," Klaus said finally. It was a beautiful piece, even he had to admit. It would never be so sentimental as his necklace that she wore but it was still something worth having.

After the grey man packaged his things he would see to Caroline and from there to Elena's house.

**Laboratory #2, Ingolstadt, 1812

She took Klaus and Rebekah to the second laboratory that her father had made. It was where her and her sister, Elsa had been created. Elsa had been born second to last but father had remade her in Shalyn's same birthing tank. He'd told Shalyn that Elsa was made using some the same base DNA that he'd had for her. In fact, he'd kept samples of Shalyn so that he could easily compare results between his two monster daughters.

Shalyn remembered when father told her he was going to make her a younger sister. Really, she'd been fine without the company of her other siblings but she wasn't sure how she felt about another girl. She'd thought, perhaps I can have a real friend, someone who is not always a predator but just a person. With the exception of Lennart who was only angry at his purpose in life, who only ever cared for her in a way that almost frightened her, she'd never been particularly close to her siblings. Pale and Ink always seemed to find her but sometimes she wasn't sure if they cared for her or not.

Elsa met them at the rigid iron gate. It was tall and spanned around the entire property, an electrical deathtrap if opened forcefully. Since they were siblings it was always easy to tell that the presence of the other was close but as sisters they were always eager to talk to one another. Elsa had been what she'd needed, someone who was practically ordinary. She was called Watcheye because she could see into the past and teleport. The two powers were of a tricky medium and of all their minds, father had explained that Elsa's was the most fastest operating and that her ability to strategize, organize and predict was impeccable. He'd made the younger daughter in charge of the second laboratory, which centered around the creation of vegetation and small chimaric creations within set ecosystems. Father had used some of the data to form his design for child seven. Elsa had been mum on the subject, having sworn to let father explain everything. Elsa had further developed the laboratory, forming an area for medicine and weaponry. Where Shalyn was an artist, dancer, her sister was quite the opposite, someone who relished in strategy of battle, read triage books from scientists around the globe, she enjoyed lectures, autopsies, freaks of nature and rare acts of the same. Though they were completely different Shalyn reveled in it. She waited at the gate as her sister pulled correct levers and dials in a small booth off to the side. A loud snap signaled the current being turned off and the gate able to be touched. Shalyn pushed open the gate eager to talk to her sister.

_/Who is the delicious, rogue?/_

_/Not even a hello, sister?/_

Shalyn smiled warmly as she enveloped her sister in a warm hug. Elsa was the normal one but easily the one that stood out most. She was a striking six foot and was built like the lush and warlike amazons that Shalyn had read about in the fantastical _The Travels of Sir John Mandeville._ She had deep brown skin, that had a soft inner glow. It was a literal glow, however, her nerves sending off such rapid-fire signal that in certain states of excitement or frustration they emitted a radiance that made her sister's skin shine. Warm brown eyes looked down into hers and she grinned.

_/Klaus and Rebekah, two of the Original Children. I'm hoping to gain their trust, play along?/_

_/No need to worry./_

Their thoughts had always connected the most easily. She took her sister's hand and led her to Klaus and Rebekah.

"This is my sister, Elsa Frankenstein. She operates my father's second laboratory. I'd informed her of my finding you by telegram/_What have you got in mind Elsa?/_.

"When sister told me that she'd discovered vampires, I scarcely knew what to believe. If you follow me we can take a tour of the facility, take tea in the drawing room later. /_Nothing spectacular, but I'll be honest, there are a FEW things I'd like them to observe. I would like their honest opinion, this is a chance for new data!/_

_/My sister, we'll learn many new things on this tour, of that I'm sure./_

"It is a pleasure to meet you. It is...fascinating to meet other immortals such as yourself."

"I feel the same too but I really, _really_ want to take a look at Frankenstein's creations! The book made it seem as if he'd only done one impressive thing. There's more to it, right," Rebekah said happily. The icy exterior gave way with knowledge did it? Shalyn smiled to herself.

Elsa smiled, "Yes, there's always more at the source. And I'm sure I've as many questions for your brother and yourself as you have for my sister and I."

Klaus caught Shalyn's eye at the comment. They were intense and her breath caught before she realized what was happening. Her cheeks grew hot and finally she turned to her sister.

"I'm so very eager to begin."

_/What you mean is that the dashing hybrid is making your blood hot. I may only be a few years old but I was NOT born yesterday./_

**Mystic Falls, Present Day

"Start from the beginning. If you're lying, I don't care what you are, I'll make sure you're dead."

"You have some fascination with death? So do we. I more than Ink. Ink here is more interested in life, in the creation of magic."

"You make it?"

"Make it better," Ink said softly, his body slouched in one of the desks, long legs kicked onto the surface. HIs hair very suddenly became a gleaming black, long and a few inches. His skin became a deep islander's tan, his chest and abs gaining new muscle beneath the shirt. He looked over to his brother, who scowled back. Ink shrugged.

"What the hell was that?"

"We can change our appearance but not our height, unfortunately. The pliance of our skin, the vibration of our molecules along with special stamps of magic allow our skin to trap magic and rework it as a camouflage. Pretty neat, eh?"

Pale was leaned against the wall, his hoody back, exposing his red and white hair. The two colors spilled like paint over his dark clothes, the moonlight between the window blinds making his skin pearlescent.

"It is but what are you here for? You still haven't explained anything." Alaric, resisted the urge to threaten and instead crossed his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine," Pale waved off. He moved as if in a glide, long legs carrying him to the edge of Alaric's desk where he sat. Then in another obviously sensuous move, he layed himself out over the desk, head in his hand facing Alaric.

"Long ago, in the old world, when raw Magic was the realized law, there was a nomadic tribe of huntsmen. Their women knew witchcraft and their men communed with the spirits and spectres of the other world."

Alaric didn't miss the small roll of Pale's upper body, muscles in his chest, taut underneath his tshirt. The hand that didn't support his head, caressed the line of his thigh, in slow invisible circles.

"Do you mean the Wild Hunt, the vicious, slaughtering spirit men? If you are you're not referring to any tale that I haven't heard before."

"That's what happened after, and they don't even mention the best part," Pale teased his thumb between pink grinning lips.

"What's the best part?"

"There used to be a balance, a balance between the spirits, the elements, the mystical and the plane that man existed on. Though Magic was raw it knew its role, had its...diplomats with which it communed. The witches,shamans, the werewolves, the fairies and nature held the balance points. However, the huntsmen wanted more, because as you know," and Pale settled himself flat on his back, one knee drawn up, the other still dangling over the side, "men are always the greedy ones."

Alaric brushed a hand underneath the hoody, there was only warm skin beneath. He let his palm rest on Pale's stomach, the pinky of his hand just brushing against the beginnings of soft wiry hair.

"So what happened to them, these huntsmen?"

"They disrupted nature."

"Plagues, famine, death, disease," Ink said quickly. His voice was not the same, now deeper and there was another accent. He wondered how many places the two men had been, wondered if he even knew what they really looked like. He brushed the edge of his thumb along Pale's bellybutton. He felt abs tighten, relax, felt the small inhale of a gasp.

"So what happened? History does tell of harsh conditions in the early European tribes and villages but what does that mean? You could be feeding me garbage right now, telling lies, like you do with your bodies." Alaric scratched harshly down Pale's skin, earning another gasp, and cheeks to become a soft pink. Alaric smiled softly to himself, palming soft skin once more.

"The witches locked away the huntsmen's power, their ability to communicate with magic. You can't talk to the spirits, you can't hunt the lingering dead."

Alaric's fingers ventured higher moving over the light dusting of hair that covered Pale's chest. He delighted in the heavy breaths during the storytelling, the way that both of Pale's legs were stretched on either side of his desk.

"You can't commune with iron or wood, can't talk to the animals that surround you in a forest," Ink said standing up and moving down the row of desks. He touched his brother's forehead, let his fingers caress and rub into Pale's scalp. Pale moaned, his back arching on the desk.

"And I...could do that, with your help?"

"Yes, and more, if you wanted," Pale said sitting up, leaning forward, so that his hair almost brushed Alaric's forehead. If Alaric wanted he could count every freckle on Pale's cheeks. Pale's soft exhalations of air tasted like peppermint gum. It was cliche but it was something also beautiful in the pale man that he couldn't stop caressing. At first it had been a game, maybe it still was, what they were doing in his classroom late at night, but he was certainly not winning.

A hand touched his face, Ink's. His hand was very warm as he touched his cheek and broke his gaze over Pale's growing hardness, the way he'd shifted so that his legs were open wide on the desk, his hands on either side as he leaned forward. Alaric's hand ghosted over hardened nipples, tugged at soft downy hair, he let his other hand venture underneath the black fabric, pulling Pale into his lap.

"What...what are you two doing to me," Alaric said shakily. He was now beginning to understand that this wasn't all him, that though there'd been desire before, there was something else present too. Ink was now at his back, fingers sliding and manipulating his scalp gently, and he couldn't help the groan that shuddered past his control.

"Having some fun, taking you with us. I bet the magic, even in its dormant state, tastes absolutely divine in your blood. That is what I eat."

"Magic," Alaric gritted out, as Pale's rounded yet firm ass ground into his jeans.

"Yes," Pale practically purred, as he leaned so that their chests were connected. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, and he could feel Pale's in a thudding rhythm against his.

"My brother is the one who finds it. He receives youth and nourishment," and Pale's lips brushed like lightning shocks against his own mouth as he spoke, "from being in its presence." The last hiss against his mouth made Alaric keen low in his throat.

"I can't wait to wake you up," Pale said softly. "I can't wait to taste you, when you're awake. For now...sleeping hunter it is."

"Wait," Alaric said quickly, "wait."

"O, lyubovʹ , u vas yestʹ ochenʹ mnogo voprosov. Pochemu ty ne mozheshʹ prosto ... delatʹ to, chto vy skazali (Oh, love, you have so many questions. Why can't you just...do as you're told)?"

"What if I don't want to do this? Will I hurt anyone, if I become this-this huntsman? Where the hell do you get off forcing me to do as you ask!"

Alaric, shook himself out of their grip, getting up quickly and stepping back from his desk and to the side away from Pale. The door was at his back and Alaric was willing to take his chances. He could text Damon to meet him at the school, hopefully hold them off until then. They wouldn't kill him, for now he was "dormant" and wasn't any good to Pale.

Warmth rushed through him at the thought of the name and his knees almost buckled at the sudden _want_ that coursed through him. He clutched the dry erase board behind him, aiming his wristed weapon towards Pale.

"What the fuck," he muttered closing his eyes. He leaned against the dry erase board, his arms falling to his sides. He gritted his teeth, his head leaned against the wall, struggling to fight their control.

"Look," Pale said now leaning into him and running his hand over his clothed chest. He was grateful for the fabric between the two objects, knowing that he'd already be moaning if it had been otherwise. "We only want you to help us wake our youngest sibling. They've been in a coma since birth and we've tried everything to wake him or her. Ink says that a huntsman could wake our youngest, give them life in this world. Let me wake you up," Pale said running a rough tongue against his throat. Pale's fingers worked at the buttons between them. He paused to remove his hoody, and then finally pressed his hands against Alaric's chest finally kissing him.

Alaric was completely lost, and completely unsure of what to do, but it didn't matter because immediately after a sharp, sting like a bullet to the brain and a rush of euphoria was at the side of his neck. Pale was _biting _him! Alaric clutched Pale's back, biting his lips, trying to hold back the onslaught of electric feeling that vibrated through his skin, that had his heart thundering in his chest.

"You like it, don't you. Pale is usually not this gentle, maybe we can be friends after everything is over. I hope so."

Alaric came hard, his vision darkening as Pale continued to take steady gulps, along with every sane thought in his head. He was satiated, with little ripples of pleasure that made his breath stagger. He and Pale slid to the floor, Pale still at his throat, licking, sucking, kissing gently in replacement of the sharp fangs. He pushed Pale and the red and white haired young man or seemingly young man edged away, still crouched on the ground.

"I'll help you, see this through. But only because of Ink. Ink is...sincere and you're...an animal. I need to go home first beca-"

"Sleep," Pale said simply.

And Alaric lost consciousness, Pale catching him before he hit the ground. The Twins looked at one another.

"Am I really an animal, Ink?"

"Only sometimes, Vy ne mozhete s etim podelatʹ (You can't help it)."

"Maybe...maybe our seventh sibling will fix that.

**Elsewhere Mystic Falls, Present Day

He didn't have the bracelet. And he didn't have his heart apparently either. Klaus' plan had been so simple, cure Caroline, gain her trust and that of Sheriff Forbes'. And in those regards, perhaps the plan was a bit successful. He had planted that small seed of eventual trust or at last a way for him to explore their lives and find more weaknesses.

He didn't have the bracelet because of the wrench that had sprung up. It would royally fuck him over and he'd even cautioned Stefan on a situation similar.

He was interested in his bait and leverage, Caroline Forbes. This little niggling thought ould appear in his actions if he let it, but that didn't matter because his wife was a telepath. SHe would see that tiny thought, that bright spark of Caroline and kick his ass.

"Fuck. Fuck!"

Klaus pulled the vehicle into the driveway and sat at the wheel for a moment. He closed his eyes, remembered that desert fruit and dusty tome smell- that encased his wife. There was also another underlying scent soemthing so primal and sweet, that it made his senses get away from him sometimes. Like now.

He stepped along the walkway and wasn't surprised when she opened the door to meet him. She wasn't wearing her Bob Marley t-shirt he thought quietly to himself.

"Shalyn...it's been some time hasn't it."

"Yes, it has. What should we do first; have me kick your ass or catch up. I thought about it and I wasn't certain what would be the the fitting first choice. You pick, husband."

Klaus held his arms at his side, almost breaking inside because he loved her still. As much as she hated him, surely hated him, he loved her. And damn Caroline for having that same brilliance, that same fight that he so loved in his wife.

"Ich bin dein, zu zerstören. Und wenn Sie fertig hoffentlich werden wir sprechen und die Wut wird weniger in die Augen, Frau (I'm yours to destroy. And when you've finished hopefully we will talk and the anger will be less in your eyes, wife)."

"Honey, we are so at the divorce stage," Shalyn mocked as she headbutted him. Her thick metallic skin crunched against his skeleton and he almost fell to his knee. Her crushing fingers and harsh dripping fangs embedded in his throat, ensured that he stayed on his knees, till she was ready to lay him, hurt and bleeding to the ground.

"Now let's see some more of that humanity I once loved. Maybe it will help your case." And the dark shine of her skin flashed in his eye before she plunged ten claws into his side, her fanged mouth over his swallowing thick gurgling screams.

**And yeah, I know but how often does the CW let Alaric be yummy, honestly? But if you did enjoy, you should lemme know, my self esteem glows :P**


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